“What about Pittaya?” Lydia asked.
I blinked at her. In my mind, he was part of the past, divided by an invisible line from my new life. At the same time, his apology had been heartfelt, and I appreciated the bravery it had taken to speak up. Maybe he would be an okay suitor for one of my friends. The obvious choice was Terry, since they shared a tendency toward ruminative silence.
Arden looked sharply at Lydia. “Who’s that? What did I miss? You know this person?”
“I know a lot of people.” Lydia broke off a piece of scone and popped it into her mouth.
“Why didn’t you say something? I can get his class schedule, and we’ll arrange to accidentally run into him a few times, invite him out for a coffee, level up to dinner and a movie—”
Lydia made a T with her hands. “You need to cease and desist, okay? When did this go from hanging out and showing Mary a good time to a freaky obsession with our love lives? Just because you and Miles are going through something—”
“No, we’re not.” Arden’s face flushed. “I’m fine with his new date partner.” She slurped angrily from her straw, squeezing the juice box until it crumpled.
Lydia grabbed Arden by the wrist. “His what?”
“He has a new debate partner,” Arden answered with a trace of impatience. “You know that. Angelica from Connecticut.” She made air quotes around the last word, as if the existence of such a place was pure conjecture.
“You saiddatepartner,” Terry pointed out.
“Oh.” Arden pressed her lips together. “I meant debate. Obviously. She’s just a girl who’s probably a genius and likes the exact same things as Miles and has an exotic East Coast vibe.” She gave a brittle laugh. “And wears a private school uniform. Why should I worry?”
Lydia leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Listen, Miles is great, and I say that as someone who has zero interest in boning her best friend’s boyfriend. But he’s not exactly a ladies’ man.”
Arden opened her mouth to protest, but Lydia shook her head. “Let me finish. There’s no way Miles is cheating on you, because that would mean he’s scum, and then I would have to take him out, and no matter how brilliantly I represented myself in court there’s always a chance it wouldn’t go my way. Therefore, it’s not happening. That’s just logic.”
I wasn’t sure whether she was referring to Miles’ hypothetical philandering or the legal ramifications of revenge killing but deemed it best to nod.
“I know.” Arden swiped at the end of her nose. “Everything is perfectly fine.”
“Good.” Lydia sat back. “Then we can all relax and stop trying to force people to couple up whether they want to or not.”
Terry gave an emphatic nod of agreement.
Arden sighed. “That throws a rock in front of my skateboard.”
“Why?” asked Lydia.
“Because I’m building to something, okay?” Arden traced a mint-green fingernail across the uneven surface of the table. “This is all part of a bigger plan.”
Terry looked to me for enlightenment, but I could only shrug.
Lydia’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? Are we doing some weird fix-yourself challenge we don’t even know about? Because I don’t get how we went from showing Mary around and calling out scoundrels toThe Bachelor, Millville High Island.”
Arden tipped her head back, eyes squeezing shut. “Winter Formal. Okay? Everything is supposed to lead up to the big dance, a.k.a. the perfect way to cap off Mary’s season. And for that you need certain things, like dates, and fancy dresses, and pretty feet!”
“Feet?” Terry whispered.
“Pedicures. That was next on my list.” Arden blew out a frustrated breath. “So much for the big reveal.”
“Like a ball,” I said, trying to picture it.
Lydia fake-coughed.
“It’s as close as we’re going to get around here,” Arden shot back. “And besides, even if it’s just in the gym, going to a dance is still an iconic high-school experience.”
“Same in the olden days,” I agreed.
“Okay, but you don’t technically need a date to go to the dance,” Lydia said, in a more conciliatory tone.
